Extinguishing the Light
by sakura rakuen
Summary: Slight spoilers. Basically; the aftermath of Light's death. I do not own Death Note. Um...I refuse to admit that summaries are awkward to write, that would be tatamount to saying, "I suck at summaries." Just read the story, you've already read this far!


She hears them knock on the door. She wipes flour-covered hands on her apron and answers it, a tired smile playing on her face. Probably more people trying to comfort her after Soichiro's death. Or Sayu's therapist paying a visit to "check for any improvement."

It's Matsuda. Behind him stands Aizawa. Both wear grim expressions. She noted, dully, that Matsuda's shirt was spattered with blood.

"Mrs. Yagami...may we come in?" Matsuda's voice makes a feeble attempt to sound cheery, but it's too raspy and quivers too much for that.

She bows and lets them in. Sits them down. Washes her hands, serves tea. The men merely sit like statues, hands in their laps.

"Well..." she doesn't know how to begin this conversation. "What is it?"

Matsuda flinches. He hastily sips his tea and nearly chokes on it. Aizawa thumps him on the back, sighing. She furrows her brow.

"We...I don't know how to tell you this."

She should have known right there. She should have demanded that they leave; she should have left herself. She should have done _something_ other that sit there and waited for the news.

"What? Tell me what?" she is fearful for a fleeting instant, and it shows clearly on her face. Aizawa seems to lose his nerve, but she composes herself and asks him to tell her.

"Yagami Light is dead of cardiac arrest."

She shakes her head disbelievingly.

"Light's fine," she reassures them. "You must have mistaken someone for him."

At her naivety, Matsuda finally speaks up.

"Light's dead." he says in a small voice. "He...there was no avoiding it."

And it sinks in. Horror etches itself into her face as she remembers the bloodstains on Matsuda's shirt, Light's involvement in the Kira case...

"My baby is NOT dead!" she snarls. It's obvious what happened now. It's obvious, to her. "You shot him! You killed him!"

Matsuda blanches, but has no chance to say anything. She launches herself at him, tears blurring her vision, grief giving her strength.

"YOU KILLED MY SON!" she sobs, clawing at him like a wild animal, not bothering to even try to restrain herself, because this is the man who took her Light away.

Aizawa recovers his senses and pulls her off of Matsuda. Her head turns towards him furiously, and she twists his arm around and escapes his grasp.

"Why?" she wails. "He's my son...my only son..."

She crumples.

* * *

Aizawa's face hardens as her looks at her; sobbing on the floor, fists balled in fury, cheeks puffy with hordes of tears.

"Matsuda," he says quietly. "Get up."

They leave. She doesn't care. Sayu is in the next room; but she's little more than a doll now. Her daughter does not hear her screams, nor does she know her pain.

* * *

The funeral is the next week. Friends and family had pour into her house, attempting to console her. She does not let them. For once, she envied her daughter. Lifeless as she was, her heart was locked behind iron doors, and she didn't have to suffer.

Sachiko is dressed in black. She doubts she will ever wear another color again. She sits through the church service. The church is packed, and there are even some people outside. Light always did have a lot of friends, she remembers with a watery smile.

Girls she's never seen before are sitting in the pews, crying silently. Boys are slumped in their seats, huddled and silent and just shocked by the sheer weight of it all.

Family members sit behind her. There's Aunt Korini, mumbling prayers feverently while tears run down her withered cheeks. And Uncle Taheri's even canceled his business trip to come. He's twisting a handkerchief in his hands. Light had always been his favorite nephew.

All these faces, twisted in grief and heavy with sadness.

Light lies in a silver casket, surrounded by white silk. He's wearing a black tuxedo with a red tie. His hair is neatly done. He looks immaculate; he should be on his way to a party. He should be with Misa, having dinner.

Speaking of the girl, Misa is sitting on Sachiko's right. Her eyes are cast down, even her hair seems dull. She gently fingers a black notebook sitting on her lap. She glares at it, grows teary-eyed, and stores it in her purse.

"Light Yagami lived an amazing life, even if it was rather short." the preacher began. He is a white-haired, scrawny boy, reciting the eulogy as if it were the daily news. "He was top of his class, and was also the tennis champion for..."

She doesn't listen. All she can see are Light's gentle brown eyes in her mind. Those kind, loving eyes. Now they're closed like hard winter buds, and they'll stay like that.

She chokes back a sob. It comes out as a whimper. Next to her, Misa is staring at the preacher with something close to hatred. But her face has become like Sayu's; blank and empty, so it's hard to tell. She's taking out a pen, stroking it delicately.

She turns her gaze back to the preacher.

"Light Yagami's death was, tragically, unexplained." The boy's eyes glimmer. He knows something. But he doesn't show it. "There were gunshot wounds on the body, but he reportedly died of a heart attack."

A wave of shock ripples through the crowd. People begin to whisper.

"Light wasn't killed by Kira, of course." the boy goes on. "Kira himself has been killed. But we are here to mourn the death against one who died fighting against him."

More whispers. This time more hushed, more respectful. Misa is taking out the black notebook. Sachiko can't read the cover, it's not in Japanese.

The boy steps down from the podium. He stands in front of the body and bows before leaving. Sachiko swears there's something akin to triumph in his eyes.

People line up in front of the body, mumbling a few words before departing. No one's face is dry anymore. Sachiko stands up; the people part for her.

She stands there for what seems like an eternity; staring at her son. Memories flood her; as if trying to fill the emptiness his death has left behind.

* * *

_Light is three months old. She's mashing up fruit to make a pudding._

"_Apple." He says, chubby fingers reaching for the red fruit._

_She drops the bowl and runs towards the baby. She strokes his fuzzy brown hair and cries tears of joy. Her son's first word!_

"_Mama?" he tilts his head quizzically. "Mama, apple!"_

"_Oh yes, honey, apple!" she hands him the nearest one and runs towards the phone. Who cared if her husband had a case to solve? This was important._

* * *

_Light is turning one today. She takes him to the beach. Food is lined along the wooden picnic tables a few meters away. A chocolate cake is in the center, and several children are running fingers across the frosting._

"_Light-kun!" she hands him a cupcake with a bright blue candle on it. "Make a wish!" she hold the camera ready._

_He stares at the cupcake in his palm._

"_Will my wish come true?" he asks._

"_Yes," she answers immediately. Since when did toddlers talk like that?_

"_You're lying, mother," he says easily. He blows out the candle nonetheless. She's so confused that she forgets to snap the picture._

* * *

_Light is sitting at his desk, finishing something she cannot see. He's eight by now, and she's noticed that his intelligence has begun to overshadow hers._

"_I know you're there, mother."_

_She laughs. "How did you find me this time?"_

"_It was simple. Your shadow blocked my light," he turned around. "So when is the baby due?"_

_She gasps. She hadn't even started showing yet._

"_How did-"_

"_Why else would you buy umeboshi? Father told me that the only time you ate it was when you were pregnant with me."_

"_He's due in September. You'll have a brother soon."_

"_Actually, I thin this one might be a girl."_

"_Hmm...it's possible. But the doctor says it's a boy."_

"_Well, he's wrong," Light huffed. She laughed and ruffled his hair._

* * *

All those memories...Sachiko threatens to collapse from their weight. But all she does is kiss her son's forehead, whisper a few words, and walk towards Sayu.

Misa snaps her notebook shut; she casts one last glance at Light before excusing herself.

"Ki wo tsukete..." her song is lost in the wind.

Sachiko stares at the girl. Then she shakes her head and wheels Sayu out of there.

Back at the NPA headquarters, the white haired boy collapses.

Back at home, Sachiko stares at the gun in her hands. There is a splash of red against the white living room walls.

Back in her apartment, Misa cries.

* * *

A/N: So, it's not perfect. I haven't seen the ending of Death Note, but SOMEONE spoiled it for me, so I decided to write a fic about it.

I really wanted Light to win, so when they told me what Matsuda did...I mean, Light killed the world's top detective (I actually love L, but I love Light more.), two shinigami, and probably about 67 of the world's criminals. He deserved to be God!

I've been really depressed about it, and vented with this. Plus, I'm pissed at Ryuk. So...yep. Review, this story is important to me!


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